


Banana and Chocolate

by serindipitysays



Series: With Our Three Hearts [3]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, So many tropes, and I love them all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 21:30:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20881001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serindipitysays/pseuds/serindipitysays
Summary: The Doctor loves bananas, he always has, he always will. Sometimes bananas aren't always bananas.





	Banana and Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gingerteaandsympathy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingerteaandsympathy/gifts).

> A little plot bunny that took hold when Abbey was talking about cupcakes. Thanks for the inspiration, dear! I hope you enjoy!

The Doctor had slept more in the last three days than he had in the last three years altogether. (_Time doesn’t exist in the TARDIS, Rose, but if your stomach says it’s time for breakfast then fine, it’s tomorrow now._) He didn’t need the sleep, he wasn’t even tired really, but with Rose draped over him like a blanket, her soft heartbeat and breathing a soothing lullaby, resisting the pull of his dreams was as difficult as resisting the pull of her.

It had been three days (_according to her stomach_) since he’d found her sitting on that bench in that park. Three days of talking, reminiscing, sharing stories of their years apart. Three days of gentle caresses, kissing tears away, and sleeping on the library floor. There seemed to be an unspoken understanding that if they left the library everything would change in one way or another. So they contended themselves to their makeshift bed of blankets and ever burning fireplace.

He spread his fingers across the blankets piled on the floor beneath him. He could still feel her warmth from where she’d slept beside him. Where she’d entwined her fingers with his. Where she’d kissed him back with so much longing and heartache and desire that he’d nearly regenerated on the spot. They’d have to leave their sanctuary some day, the blankets on the floor picked up and refolded, the fireplace finally extinguished as they left the room. But where they went, where they spent their next night, that was still something that sat heavy in his hearts. He knew where he wanted her to be. He wanted her wrapped up next to him, around him, in a room he’d never let her into before.

But he knew her bedroom was still tucked away on the TARDIS somewhere. He’d spent long days and nights thrown across that bed, staring at the ceiling after he’d lost her. Both times he’d lost her. If he imagined hard enough he could almost smell her shampoo on her pillows and he had imagined, so many times. Now that she was back there was the chance that she’d return to that room again. Alone. Without him. And the thought was tearing at his insides. He wanted her to be with him every moment of every day. Every way that he’d never allowed himself when she’d traveled with him before.

But things had changed in their years (_centuries_) apart. She’d been married; she’d loved and been loved by a him that wasn’t this him. A man with a young face and even younger bounce in his step. She’d spent the nights curled up in a bed that wasn’t his bed, with her head on not his chest, and not his hands tangled in her hair. He had every right to expect that she wasn’t ready to share a new bed with this him. Maybe she’d need, _want_, the space away from him and the idea nearly killed him.

He ran a frustrated hand over his face. He knew he needed to talk to her. They’d been talking for three days and yet they hadn’t breached the topic of what they would do next. He’d told her about Clara, and that he should be stopping to pick her up sometime sooner or later, not that sooner or later really existed in the vortex and they could take as long as they wanted. Rose had gone quiet then and he could almost hear the thoughts and worry racing through her head. He’d picked up their entwined hands and placed a gentle kiss against her knuckles, smiling against her skin as he watched the the doubt ease from her features.

The TARDIS responded to his mental plea with an image of the kitchen. The Doctor wondered what Rose was up to in the kitchens this early in the morning. His time sense told him it was earlier than they’d woken up the last couple of mornings and far earlier than when she normally went for breakfast. The TARDIS began to turn the lights on in the library one by one, a gentle prod for him to get moving. _I’m going, I’m going._ He thought testily, glowering as the ship turned the library lights on to full brightness. _Pain in my arse you are._ He imagined if Rose hadn’t been on board the ship would have tossed spitefully in response.

He first made his way to his bedroom where he changed his clothes and freshened up. As he left the en-suite he wondered if he should clean up in here a bit. This body and his last had been a bit more messy than his leather and pinstripe selves. Jackets, jumpers, and t-shirts had all been thrown haphazardly about the room, some tossed over a wing-backed chair, others just in a pile on the floor. He thought about the piles of clothes in Rose’s room and smiled softly, thinking she might appreciate his mess in an odd way. He decided to leave the piles. It was far too late in their relationship to make a bad impression now. Or was it too early? Time did get confusing every so often. Besides, there was still the chance she’d choose not to come into this room with him at all.

The smell of burnt chocolate hit the Doctor as he opened the door to the kitchen. His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. Rose Tyler surrounded by spilled flour and cocoa powder, chocolate chips and chopped bananas, a counter full of dirty dishes. She was running her hand through her hair in frustration as she flipped a burnt pancake into the bin behind her. He could just barely make out her words as she wiped the pan clean and poured another bit of batter onto its surface.

“How did he make these blasted things? How do you know when they’re done? They’re already brown aren’t they? Stupid chocolate. Stupid bananas. Stupid Doctor.”

The Doctor chuckled and crossed his arms across his chest. He thought back to a similar scene from many years before. Rose had been determined to bake him cupcakes for his birthday. He’d never told her when it was of course, but she’d been traveling with him for two years, and that meant it must have happened at some point. To make up for missing it she was going to make him chocolate banana cupcakes. She’d failed spectacularly but he’d appreciated the effort. He’d walked in on her with chocolate frosting smudged on her cheek and mushed banana drying in her hair. She’d never looked more beautiful.

He’d been bold then. Wiping his thumb across her cheek to pick up the stray chocolate. He’d put the digit between his lips and licked it clean. He remembered her dilated pupils and stuttered heartbeat as he’d moaned out a _“delicious”_ before realizing what he’d done. He’d gone red, mumbled an apology, and ran from the room, just as he’d always run from her. They never talked about that moment or his birthday again.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” The Doctor finally asked as Rose tossed another pancake into the bin.

She spun to look at him and he watched as a myriad of emotions washed across her face. Surprise, happiness, embarrassment, finally landing on frustration.

“This was supposed to be a surprise. Way to ruin it.” She said with a hand on her hip. He crossed the room and lifted one of the mixing bowls she’d put to the side.

“Looks like you’re doing a perfectly good job of that yourself.” He smirked at her before dipping a finger into the mix and bringing it to his lips. He didn’t moan this time but he did give her a pleased smile as she exhibited similar reactions as she had to his pinstriped self. “This is delicious.”

She beamed up at him. “I was hoping you’d think so. This was your favorite breakfast in the parallel universe. I was hoping you still loved bananas.”

The Doctor paused and felt his hearts flutter at her words. He knew how difficult it had been for her to reconcile that his metacrisis was the same man as him. He knew she had felt betrayed, abandoned, and that things between the two of them had been difficult for a long time. But it seemed that she had, in time, fully accepted that the man she’d married and the man standing before her now really were one in the same. Sure, one had lived a long life with her, a long and happy life as she had recalled, while the other had continued on without her in form but keeping her always in his hearts. One had passed away of old age while the other changed his face. But beneath it all, they were the same man, and that man loved and was loved by Rose Tyler.

The Doctor reached forward and took the pan from Rose’s hands. He placed it gently onto a counter, never taking his eyes off of hers. She had a smudge of cocoa powder on her jaw and he felt once more like he was standing there all pinstripes and sideburns, reaching out for her while simultaneously wanting to run as fast as he could and never stop. He shoved the feelings down deep, willing them into nonexistence. He’d sworn to himself he’d stop running from her. He ran his thumb over her jaw, wiping away the powder with his touch. He didn’t bring his thumb to his lips this time, simply content to feel her soft skin beneath his fingertips.

“I love bananas.” He said softly. “I always have. And I always will.”

His eyes caught hers and he wordlessly pleaded for her to understand. He still hadn’t said those three little but oh-so-big words to her. He wanted to say them with everything he was, knew she deserved to hear them after going so long without. But she’d heard those words spoken with a different voice for years in the parallel universe and he wasn’t sure how she’d respond to him saying them now. So instead he said what he could, hoped she’d understand, and let her guide him at her own pace.

She bit her lip and dropped her gaze. She was playing with the zipper of his hooded jumper and he watched her gaze follow the ministrations of her fingertips. A moment later she breathed in deeply and closed her eyes as she settled her shoulders. When she opened her eyes once more she locked her gaze with his. He was taken aback by the strength there, the happiness, and the love. Her soul was open behind those eyes and as he dropped his lips to hers he knew she understood.


End file.
